


the company you keep

by rohkeutta



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Drabble Collection, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, twitter prompt meme fills
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25365865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rohkeutta/pseuds/rohkeutta
Summary: a collection of short twitter prompt meme (location+word) fills.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 38
Kudos: 258





	1. forest + lightning

**forest + lightning for @canistakahari**

“So,” Steve says. “This is fun.”

Bucky glares at him from the passenger seat, trying to dry his hair with Steve’s spare t-shirt. Steve doesn’t know how it managed to get so wet in their brief, mad dash back to the car, but that’s Bucky’s hair to you: a glorious mystery.

“Yeah,” Bucky says slowly. He looks gorgeous in the dimmed daylight, even if he’s vaguely murderous and dampening the seat with his wet shorts. “How fun to go on a picnic when your boyfriend forgets to check the weather. It’s  _ only _ the worst storm of this summer.” 

He shivers a little as he rewraps the makeshift towel, and Steve grabs his own fleece from the back seat, offering it like an olive branch. Bucky sniffs but accepts it, burrowing into the oversized jacket like a chinchilla. He seems mellower after that, so Steve leans over and wraps his arm around him, and they watch the torrential downpour cascade down the windshield.

“This is kinda romantic,” Steve says, nosing Bucky’s wet bangs. “Summer lovin’ and all that.”

“I guess,” Bucky admits grudgingly as he leans into Steve’s side. “But if we get hit by lightning, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Noted,” Steve says, kissing Bucky’s temple. He thinks about his failed big plan to get down on one knee at the picnic area next to the creek, and wonders if Bucky would hate getting proposed to while wearing wet shorts. But then Bucky sighs almost contentedly and tips his head against Steve’s shoulder, and Steve stops thinking and opens his mouth.


	2. poolside + honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> general horniness imminent

**poolside + honey for @fadefilter**

Bucky knows that Steve has good ideas and bad ideas, and unfortunately they usually come in pairs. In this case, the good idea was coming down to the pool and buying Bucky a consoling mojito—it’s hot as hell, but the wind is so high that the beach is out of the question. The hotel pool, while being a little more crowded than Bucky likes, is secluded from the wind and has a sun-warmed tiled patio that’s almost as good as warm sand under Bucky’s feet.

The  _ bad _ idea was Steve turning up in a robe, aviator sunglasses, and the world’s skimpiest black speedo, glistening with sunscreen, his muscles so prominent that he looks like he did push-ups before they left the room. Bucky’s been sitting with his knees drawn up and lap covered with a book for a reason ever since Steve brought him the mojito, stripped off the robe and dived into the pool, eventually resurfacing like a Baywatch actor.

Usually Bucky wouldn’t complain, because he’s more than happy to show Steve off, but there’s just  _ something  _ about a brick shithouse of a man bringing him a cold drink, saying  _ here you go, honey, _ and kissing his hair before putting up a porn-worthy show that makes Bucky all soft and warm and horny, and he  _ hates  _ getting soft and warm and horny  _ in public. _

Steve gets out of the pool and swaggers back to Bucky, combing wet hair back from his eyes with his fingers, and Bucky can’t help but take a long, slow sip from his drink and stare, eyes glued at Steve’s crotch. Even with the dark color of the speedo it’s very clear to anyone looking that Steve’s big dick energy isn’t just about attitude. 

“How’s the mojito?” Steve asks, leaning down to steal a sip. His hand covers Bucky’s, wet and cool from the pool, and Bucky finally snaps out of his stare-down with Steve’s barely covered dick.

“Mm.” Steve smacks his mouth like a dumbass. “Not bad.”

“Go get your own,” Bucky complains, mostly to cover the fact that he just got hornier and angrier.

“Nah,” Steve says easily, sitting down behind Bucky and putting a hand on Bucky’s flank, rubbing a little. He sounds smug, like he knows exactly what Bucky was doing when he arrived. “I’ll have something sweet later.”


	3. library + cat

**library + cat for @noella**

Steve’s trying to find that one Sweet Valley High book where Liz falls into a coma, to fulfill his evening craving for nostalgia reading, when he hears a very soft but unmistakably cat-esque  _ mrow. _ He looks up from the back blurb and checks his surroundings, not sure if it was just a video on someone’s phone, but then he hears it again from the next aisle, louder and more demanding. It’s followed by shushing, and then a voice whispers, “Wait for a  _ second, _ okay? We’re almost done,” so Steve puts the book down and goes to see what’s up. 

When he rounds the shelf, he finds a pretty, dark-haired guy balancing a heavy-looking stack of what looks like the entire  _ The Famous Five _ series and some other books to boot. His backpack is one of those space helmet lookalikes, and inside there’s a white cat, sitting on a fluffy towel like a queen. As Steve watches, the cat opens its mouth and lets out another  _ mrouw _ , this time definitely impatient. 

“Look, I’m doing this for you,” the guy hisses as he tugs another book from the shelf. “You got bored with Pippi Longstocking, you don’t get to complain.”

“Uh,” Steve says, and the guy looks up, does the world’s most obvious double take, and straightens, correcting the book bundle. He barely comes up to Steve’s nose, but the face that peers up at Steve is extremely attractive: grey eyes, straight nose, and a chin that has a perfect thumb-fitting dip.

“Hey,” the guy says, a little flirtily. The flirtation is welcome: Steve’s never met a guy this hot who also carries his cat around in a fishbowl backpack, and he finds it very appealing.

“Hey,” Steve says back, risking a slow check-out of the guy’s body. Heh. Check-out. He’s checking a guy out in a lib-- Okay. “Are you gonna read all those books to the cat?”

“Her name is Alpine,” the guy informs him. “And of course I am, she can’t read.”

“Uh,” Steve says again, helplessly charmed. “That’s true.”

“I’m Bucky,” the guy says, ogling shamelessly at Steve’s arms. “Want to carry my book bag?”

Steve does.


	4. mountains + bear

**mountains + bear for @deisderium**

Bucky’s shoulders and arms are aching pleasantly as he paddles towards the shore and the small parking lot where his lift is supposed to be waiting. It’s a hot day, and the surface of the lake is like glass, broken only by his rented canoe. He’s taken swimming breaks several times during the day already, but he’s looking forward to getting to the shore and going for another dip.

The two lakes interconnected by a small river near the mountain cabin he rents every summer are big and beautiful, and kayaking or paddling them has been on his bucket list for at least three years—he’s just always somehow managed to forget to bring his kayak and gear from the club when he comes up here. But this year he’d happened to mention his dream in the local grocery store and found out that the guy running it owned a couple of canoes and was renting them to tourists. The storekeeper even had a buddy who could come pick Bucky and the canoe up from the picnic area at the far end of the second lake, sparing him the long trip back to his car.

Bucky has the buddy’s number and he's hitting the pick-up time they agreed on, but still he’s relieved to spot a dusty Jeep in the parking lot and a tall, buff guy loitering on a bench near the waterline. He knows that the locals are nice and trustworthy people, but he’s too used to the flaky city mindset to not be at least a little doubtful. He’s not exhausted, he’s taken longer trips than this, but it’s already late afternoon and he wouldn’t have made it back to his car before dark if the storekeeper’s mysterious mountain man hadn’t shown up.

The guy looks up from his book and spots Bucky, waving as he gets up and stuffs the paperback in his back pocket. Bucky’s mouth goes a little dry at the sight—the mysterious mountain man is definitely living up to the title with his overgrown hair and thick beard, tree trunk thighs straining against cargo shorts, and half-unbuttoned short-sleeved khaki shirt. He looks like he could lift a tandem kayak (or Bucky) on the roof of his car with his pinky. 

"Hey," Jacked Scout Leader says, smiling widely at Bucky as the canoe slides softly against the sandy lake bottom and comes to a halt. "Bucky, right? I'm Steve."

Bucky smiles back as he puts the paddle down and swings his leg out of the canoe, hoping he doesn't look as dazed as he feels. "Yeah, nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Steve's eyes crinkle when he smiles, like a goddamn  _ crime _ . He wades into the ankle-deep water in his Teva sandals and reaches out to Bucky. "Here, let me help." 

"Oh," Bucky says stupidly, but takes the offered hand and lets Steve pull him upright. It gives him an unfortunately good view of Steve's muscular and just perfectly hairy chest, and he stumbles a little as he tries to step out of the canoe. Steve catches him by the elbow with his free hand, says, "Oops!" and smiles in a way that makes Bucky want to fake a heat stroke just to see if Steve would carry him to the car.

"How was the trip?" Steve asks when Bucky’s gathered his dignity and is able to stand on both feet in the warm, shallow water. "Thor said you're an experienced paddler?" 

"Uh, yeah," Bucky stammers, trying to not think about what else the storekeeper might have said about him. Has he ever mentioned to Thor that he's single and looking? Or that he finds rugged mountain men unbearably hot? "I was basically raised in a canoe, my dad loves it. I even played kayak polo for ten years. And the trip was great, it's so beautiful around here." 

"That's really neat." Steve finally lets go of Bucky’s hand and elbow, stepping back to tug the canoe further up the beach. "Saw any bears? There's a few of them hanging around the lakes, a lot of people have spotted them this week."

"You're the only one so far," Bucky blurts before he manages to stop himself, and immediately covers his face with his hands. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I don't know why I said that." 

He's waiting for Steve to get offended and leave with only Thor's canoe, making Bucky walk all the way back to his car. But then Steve laughs, startled and delighted, and reaches out to touch the back of Bucky’s hand. 

"You know," Steve starts, and when Bucky peers through his fingers, Steve's checking him out, smiling widely. "Bears don't usually eat anyone around here. But if you're interested, I'll see you in the pub tonight—is 8pm okay?" 

" _ Oh,"  _ Bucky says again, and then he says, "Yeah—yeah, I can do that." 


	5. waterfall + rainbow

**waterfall + rainbow for @arsartisf**

For weeks, he believes he found the waterfall by accident. 

It’s a quiet little place, tucked in a hidden ravine: a small but deep pond, and cascades of clear, cool mountain water. The stream that flows out of the pond is the same one Steve follows upstream for a few hundred yards from the village when he starts his patrol, before the path forks away from it. 

He’s heard the waterfall in the woods before, and wondered where the stream went after its banks got steep and unwalkable. But the sound always seems to come from several directions at once, no matter how much he searches—until he literally stumbles upon the waterfall. He missteps on a new route and tumbles into the surprisingly shallow ravine, only to come face-to-face with the most peaceful place he’s ever seen. 

After that, he comes back nearly every day, because it’s a good place for a break, a meal, and a swim, especially if the day is hot. It’s sheltered and deceptively impossible to get out of, but when the afternoon sun hits just right, the spray forms a wide rainbow over the water, like something out of a fairytale—the rainbow ends right at the rock formation next to the waterfall that’s almost like a staircase, where he can climb back up to resume his patrol. 

The waterfall is just far enough into the forest that the villagers don’t wander there, bound by the imaginary border their fear has carved into the woods. It’s a spirit-forest, a god-wood, after all—there are gods in the trees and between them, sapling-children nestled in the moss, and birds that are not birds, loud but always invisible. There is another forest on the other side of the village, one not inhabited by gods, and that’s where Steve’s people go to get their firewood and hunt their food, because they feel safer there, less like they’re committing a crime by stepping in. They do the prayers still, gods or no, because a forest is always a forest, and death is always death, and there should be no shortage of respect for either.

Steve walks the sacred woods, because that’s his duty as the chief: to keep the woods safe and the spirits appeased, the link between the gods and his people. That’s what the chiefs of his people have always done, and will do until the woods are cut down and gods are gone. Steve feels in his bones that it won’t be much further, only a few chiefs away in the future, and that thought plagues him throughout the spring and summer. The waterfall becomes a solace, somewhere he can forget the gloomy thoughts and lay down his worries for a moment.

Bucky’s waiting for him there once, when Steve gets down to the pond; the wolf-boy with his borrowed pelt and painted fangs, eyes golden or grey depending on the angle. Steve has heard of him, of course he has, but when he goes to bow in respect, Bucky yawns, shakes his head so hard that his deer-bone earrings clack, and tells Steve to sit down and shut up, and that’s exactly what Steve does. 

They meet again, a few days later, then again and again. They talk, sometimes, Steve telling him about the life in the village; sometimes they are quiet and comfortable. Steve pretends to not look when Bucky sheds his pelts and clothes and dives into the pond, at home in his skin like only gods and animals can be; and Bucky pretends he doesn’t eye Steve like he wants to bring him into his nest as winter warmth.

Summer is long and warm that year, and it’s not until he’s already met Bucky, and the usually so elusive spirit-children are shyly starting to approach him that Steve realizes his fall might not have been an accident at all. It is a chief’s destiny to find his bride or groom in the woods, the gods giving one of theirs as a promise of good fortune and peace if the village’s side of the pact is kept, and the old ladies in the village have started to whisper nervously about Steve’s continuous solitude. There must be a reason why Steve’s been allowed in this place just now, after being chief for several years already, and he’s fairly sure he’s finally catching up.

“Bucky,” he says one afternoon, chin pillowed in his palm as he watches Bucky bask in a sunspot on the nearby rock, “will you let me court you?”

Bucky opens his eyes, golden orange and sleepy, and says, “Took you long enough.”

**Author's Note:**

> my [twitter](https://twitter.com/badrohmance) | [tumblr](https://rohkeutta.tumblr.com/)


End file.
